Restore Me
by DoctorDonna88
Summary: This is the story of Esme Cullen from her POV. At first she was perfect, then broken, then restored. Eventually Esme/Carlisle because they never get enough page time. R/R and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Into Eternity

**Story Summary:** This is the story of Esme Cullen. At first she was perfect, then broken, then restored. Eventually Esme/Carlisle because they never get enough page

time. Please read, review, and enjoy!!

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters; they belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 1: Into Eternity**

I have cared all my life. Cared what my parents wanted and expected from me. Cared for my friends who made my life a bit brighter. I even cared for the man who  
hurt me repeatedly because while he was a monster I pitied his lack of feeling. But when it came to the two things I cared for most in this life, true love and my

beautiful child, I had had them ripped from me before either had a chance to really begin.

Life is just too unfair to bear sometimes and there was no restoring it. When every dream has died and you can look back at 26 years of life littered with regrets

what was the point? It was this thought coupled with the shattered memory of my poor little boy laying cold in the ground that had led me to this exact place at this

exact time. I could feel the wind whip across my face and through my caramel hair at this great height and I suddenly felt at peace. This was my destiny. Without

another thought I stretched my arms wide, threw every feeling out on the winds to scatter where they may, and plummeted off the edge of the cliff and into eternity.

AN: I know it was short but it was just a prologue and I will be posting the next chapter as soon as I figure out document managing. Honestly I'm not terribly computer literate and would mostly likely only qualify on a typewriter. :D


	2. Chapter 2: Broken

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters; they belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 2: Broken**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1911**_

_Well there is just no way to fix this_ I thought to myself as I climbed higher up into the oak tree in my parents' backyard. I wasn't supposed to be climbing because my mother didn't believe it was proper for a sixteen year old 'young lady' to be 'clambering about like a monkey,' or that was the way she explained it. But I loved the height and the breeze helped me sort through the thoughts in my crowded mind.

The problem, even from my seat in the top most branches that so often gave me comfort, seemed absolutely impossible. I had finally asked my father about my idea to go west and be a teacher and his response had been vehement to say the least and I cringed at the memory.

_"Esme Anne Platt! You can't be serious! The only kind of woman who goes out to the west on her own doesn't become a teacher, she becomes a whore! How could you think to shame your mother and I like that! We didn't raise you to think such wicked things." My father shouted as the big angry veins began to pop out on his forehead._

_"What if I didn't go alone?" I asked timidly, trying not to draw my father's anger even further._

_"Who would go with you?" He asked cruelly, "Surely not your mother and I and you've got no husband so what you asked is ridiculous!"_

_I looked to my mother, her expression tight lipped and frozen with an emotion I couldn't place, and my father's temper flared again._

_"Don't look to her for help you wicked little creature!" _

_And then I understood my mother's frozen emotion, fear, as my father's hand came whistling down through the air to slap me across the face, the force of it turning my head to the side._

_"Now get out of my sight while I discuss this with your mother." Venom seemed to drip from every word as I ran from the room praying to God that my mother wouldn't be punished for my mistakes._

I pulled myself out of the memory not wanting to go any further. My father was usually a gentle man but when his temper was tested the consequences were severe. The slap that had been dealt to my mother hadn't even left a mark but my guilt was unable to be absolved. Without wanting to, my mind flicked back to my apology to my mother.

_The midmorning sun shone the windows and into our little kitchen making everything seem brighter than it had any right to be. My gloomy and guilt ridden state didn't help the matter as my mother bustled around the kitchen singing softly as she swept and cleaned. My mother's happiness was hard to deal with as well; she seemed to be acting as if he had never slapped either of us._

_"I'm so sorry!" I blurted out, unable to contain myself any longer._

_"Esme, stop this nonsense," she said gently, only making it worse, "You paid for your behavior and I have paid for mine. Your father has forgiven us. What more can you want?"_

_I sat in stunned silence for a moment before my answer snarled out from my throat. "I want you to live without the fear of being pummeled to death by my father."_

_The words were out of my mouth and I instantly regretted them because of my mother's pained expression._

_"I don't think you understand Esme. Your father would never beat me to death! He was showing me that I had erred in my discipline of you and clearly he was correct. Your father has and will always be very good to us as long as I am a good wife and you are a good daughter. We owe him that respect, Esme Anne. It is what women do and you will know when you are a wife and mother. You'll see. Just keep quiet and be a good woman and the anger of a man will always pass."_

My mother had made me feel very small in that moment. I was a petulant child staring into the face of the kind and forgiving angel that was my mother. What she said was true of my father; he was good to us when we were good to him. I instantly felt the need to restore this gaping hole in the relationship with my parents. I wanted to be better than I was, kind and compassionate like my mother. My dreams of being a teacher in the west could wait until I married. And if my future husband didn't want to move west then I would teach my children to have a gentleness of spirit. _Just as my mother teaches me everyday_, I thought to myself with a smile.

With that thought of my mother I instantly felt guilty again. I should not have been in this tree and I hastened to get myself to the ground where I would start my resolution to better myself. I twisted down through the branches faster than I usually did; needing more than anything to get out of this tree and prove to my parents that I could be what they desired of me.

I should have taken it slower. One misstep on a weakened branch sent me careening as the wood snapped beneath my feet, my arms pin wheeling, searching for anything to grab on to. The air rushed past me and for an instant it felt like flying. The sickening crunch as I hit the ground told me I was less than bird like. For a moment there was no pain, only a hyper awareness telling me that my leg was broken. Then it set in, my leg was broken, and there was only pain. I screamed.

AN: Well I hoped you liked this chapter since it's a little longer. If you didn't like it so much please let me know why since I really want to make this better for my readers. Next couple chapters should be up soon, though I may tweak them a bit. Next chapter we meet Carlisle so I may not be able to hold out!!


	3. Chapter 3: Forever Changed

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters; they belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 3: Forever Changed**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1911**_

My mother and father had come running at my screams. They weren't mad from the looks on their faces. My mother had looked panicked but my father had calmly called the doctor after taking me inside to lie down on my bed. Both of them sat with me as we waited for the doctor; my mother stroking my hair while my father held my hand.

"Am I in trouble for climbing the tree? I'm so sorry!" I managed to moan out through my gritted teeth.

My mother looked at me as if I was insane and my father chuckled for a moment before responding.

"If I had caught you climbing you would have been in trouble," his voice calm and even, "But since you've hurt yourself so badly I can hardly punish you. You've done well enough to chastise yourself, Esme."

Just as he'd finished his sentence a knock came from the front door.

"That'll be the doctor. Just hold still. Not much longer to wait." My father said kindly as he squeezed my hand and left to answer the door.

"Mother," I said softly, not wanting to let her hear the pain in my voice, "You two are more than I deserve."

"No sweet child. You only deserve the very best." My mother responded, the worry evident in her tone.

Then I heard a musical voice from the hallway, so perfect that it could hardly be real. Perhaps I was beginning to get delusional from the pain but I didn't care as long as he would keep speaking.

"Mr. Platt, I apologize it took me so long to get here. Where is your daughter?"

"Esme is right down this hall Dr. Cullen. Thank you for coming on such short notice. She took a bit of a tumble and if I'm right I think she's broken her leg." My father responded, his usually smooth voice sounding rough in comparison.

Then the door opened and I gasped in shock. This man was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Even with the dark circles under his eyes and his blond locks being slightly mussed as though he had been running, he was still the most handsome man I had ever beheld. Within a second of my gasp his forehead creased in a pained expression that made me want to cry, angels should never be so sad.

He was at my side in an instant, his hands on either side of my face, his liquid gold eyes staring into mine as if he could see my soul. I never wanted to move again.

"How bad is the pain, Miss Platt?" Dr. Cullen asked his tone polite although the worry on his face was undisguised.

"Please call me Esme," I requested, trying to keep the awe out of my voice and failing miserably, "And it does hurt quite a bit, but not so much as before."

The doctor chuckled so low that I was sure I was the only one who could hear it and a blush spread across my face.

"Well Esme," the angel-faced doctor replied, "Lets see to this leg and try to ease your pain a bit more, shall we."

Dr. Cullen turned to my mother and father who were now standing in the doorway, not wanting to get in his way I suppose.

"Has she had any major illnesses or accidents within the past couple years?"

"No, she fit as fiddle this one, she hasn't been to see you or Dr Miller since that flu she had five years back." My father responded, seeming unusually proud of my excellent health.

_I wish I had been sick everyday of my life if it meant meeting Dr. Cullen earlier!_ That thought made me blush even deeper as the Doctor began his examination.

"Now Esme," Dr. Cullen said turning his attention back to me, "I'm going to need to examine your leg so try not to move and I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable."

"It's just fine Dr. Cullen," I responded quickly, my voice thankfully free of the jumpiness I felt, "I can lie still for you."

"Excellent Esme, you're so brave," His voice so kind it nearly hurt; my heart beating wildly at the compliment from such a lovely man, "And you may call me Carlisle if it helps to deal with the pain."

My heart was near to bursting out of my chest and I was positive he could hear it. His hands began to efficiently inspect my exposed leg, his touch colder than I expected but not unpleasant.

"Well it seems to be a clean break Esme but it will hurt when I have to straighten it out." Carlisle, how I loved the sound of his name in my head, then turned to my parents, "Mr. Platt if you could come hold her down that would be very helpful. And Mrs. Platt, I mean no disrespect but this may be difficult for you to watch. You may want t—"

"Go put some water on for tea Margaret," My father spoke kindly to my mother, "You know how much Esme likes it."

"Of course, William." My mother replied with one last look at me before she shut the door.

"Now Esme, this is going to hurt and I'm so sorry," Carlisle said, his voice obviously strained, "I'm going to count to three. One, two—"

On two Carlisle pulled my leg back into place and pain exploded throughout my body before subsiding to a dull ache. From some distant place in my mind I was aware that my father was holding me in his arms but in that moment my whole attention was focused on Carlisle.

"Carlisle" I whimpered softly.

The look of a composed doctor slipped from his face and for a brief moment I saw a man undone. His face was twisted into the most heartbreakingly beautiful sadness of someone ancient and wise. And as quickly as it had come it disappeared back into a mask of a simple country doctor.

"I just need to put a cast on this and then I will give you some medication. Everything is going to be just fine Esme." Carlisle's voice seemed more strained than it had before.

"I'll just go check on that tea for you Esme." My father whispered quietly to me and then left the room.

"When will the cast come off? Should I get it checked before then?" I asked timidly. The real question was when I would see this angel again.

"Dr. Miller should be able to take the cast off for you in a couple weeks." Carlisle replied, his voice more obviously tense now that we were alone.

"Dr. Miller!" I exclaimed the shock and hurt embarrassingly evident.

"I am leaving very soon Esme. Dr Miller is more than capable of taking care of your leg."

"Oh. Where are you going?"

"Chicago."

His one word reply sounded hollow and lonely as if he could have picked anywhere and it wouldn't have matter. I wanted to ask why he was leaving but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I somehow felt as if to speak would be like plunging a knife into his heart. Instead I patted his arm in a way I hoped would be comforting as he continued to work on my leg.

"I believe I am supposed to comfort you in this situation Esme. You are the one with the broken leg after all." Carlisle said, his tone picking up and becoming more amused by the second.

I laughed with him for a minute my heart filling with light at the sound. The moment was too fleeting as Carlisle stood to leave. Panic erupted in my chest as he turned to go and my voice burst forth without shame.

"So soon Carlisle?"

The pain was too clear in my voice and he flinched as he turned to face me and again I saw that ancient sadness etched in his angel face. He was utterly breathtaking and I tried hard not blink, feeling as if he would disappear at any second. I could feel tears beginning to form at the corners of my eyes as I took in every inch of his perfect face from his golden hair, to his high cheekbones, perfectly straight nose, and flawless lips. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and brushed the tears that were rolling down my face.

"Don't cry beautiful Esme." Carlisle whispered as he brought his cold lips to my forehead.

I knew right then and there I would never forget this man and his words for as long as I existed. Whether I would end in heaven or hell I would remember him even past my death.

"Goodbye Esme." Carlisle said, his voice sounding almost as heartbroken as I felt.

"Goodbye Carlisle." I replied, feeling empty as I clutched his handkerchief to my chest.

I would never be the same again.

AN: I have a favor to ask. Please review this chapter. It is my favorite so far because it shows how powerful an impact Carlisle has on Esme. I also really wanted to show how lonely Carlisle is and how Esme has made herself unforgettable to him. At least that's what I was going for. If I EPIC failed let me know. :) Next chapter is on the way! Man, I'm just cranking these out. Must be channeling the super-temp Donna (watching Doctor Who gives me strange catchphrases).


	4. Chapter 4: Left Too Long

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters; they all belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 4: Left Too Long**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1917**_

22. I was 22 and that was practically middle aged by my parents' standards. All my other friends had been married by this point; many had already had their first child. That had been hard to cope with. I longed for a child but didn't particularly long for a husband. No man I knew would ever match up to the lonely angel of my past.

_Quit being so picky Esme_, I thought to myself exasperated. But I knew it was all impossible to forget. His cold lips and kind words had seared into my very soul and left a mark. Not a wound so much as a deep ache in my heart. It did not help, I suppose, that I wore his handkerchief next to my heart. Occasionally, when I needed to feel his presence, I would pull it out to run my fingers over his worn embroidered initials, those two intertwined C's that looked like a C and an E if you looked at it the right way.

_Esme Cullen_, the possibility of my name joined to his sent shivers of both hope and despair down my spine. He had gone a month after our meeting as he had promised. The hope of him returning was slim to nil.

"Esme come inside the house. I need your help with the dinner." My mother called from the kitchen window.

I sighed as I tucked the worn fabric back into its resting place above my heart and turned to go inside. By the time I reached the kitchen my mother looked a bit flustered and slightly annoyed.

"Daydreaming will get you nowhere little miss and I need your help. The Evensons are invited to dinner tonight."

I nearly groaned but held back my displeasure; my mother didn't deserve my childish reluctance.

"Did father invite them?" I queried, knowing perfectly well that he had.

"Yes," my mother replied in a tone all too innocent to be believed, "Mr. and Mrs. Evenson will be bringing their son Charles so we will all be matched pairs at dinner."

Ah, so there was the heart of everything, another attempt to marry me off.

"Mother—" I began, sounding vexed.

"Esme it is not your decision or mine who your father decides to invite to dinner. Charles is a good man and a wonderful conversationalist and if that is all you wish him to be we can't force your hand."

My mother had a way with guilt that made me keep silent. I prayed for patience as we continued to prepare for the dinner party.

Hours later we sat around the table in our dining room eating the food my mother and I had slaved over as my parents chatted and Charles and I spoke politely if not candidly. Charles seemed a nice enough man but I wasn't terribly inclined to have company. As soon as I realized exactly how reluctant I was I redoubled my efforts. After all it wasn't his fault that was craving solitude on this particular day.

"Mr. Evenson would you care to take a walk around the yard? We have some truly lovely oaks out back that look simply marvelous in the moonlight."

"Why thank you Miss Platt. I love to take a stroll with you." Charles replied, not doubt startled by my boldness.

My parents were a bit on the shocked side but obviously pleased by my suggestion. We got outside fairly quickly and the by the time we had taken one circuit of the yard the silence between us was stretching into something horribly awkward. I opened my mouth to speak but Charles spoke before I did.

"Miss Platt."

"Please call me Esme." I requested sweetly, hoping to draw him out of his shell.

"Esme," Charles began hesitantly, "I've had a wonderful time talking with you tonight and I think you are, well, pretty special. Not many girls will talk about the war with me and you did. I like your spirit."

"Thank you, Mr. Evenson." I replied, startled a bit. I hadn't felt as if I had been very interesting at all tonight and the war was all anyone talked about these days.

"Please call me Charles." He said with a smile that made him look fairly handsome.

"Very well Charles, I think this might be the beginning of a lovely friendship. Don't you think so?" I asked smiling genuinely back at him.

"Perhaps more." He replied with a twinkle in his eye as he slipped back inside the house, leaving me frozen in the back yard.

Friendship was one thing but marriage was entirely another thing. True, I had grown up in the same town with Charles and knew him by reputation but we had only spent one evening together. How could he think of more?

_The same way you thought of a lifetime with Dr. Cullen,_ the nasty part of my mind spit back at me.

"Well whatever his decision is I am still free to make my own." I spoke out loud as if to prove something as I strode back towards the house.

By the time I had gotten inside my parents were alone and speaking excitedly in hushed tones.

"What is the secret?" I asked suspiciously.

"Charles Evenson has asked for your hand in marriage!" My father exclaimed ecstatically.

"It is such splendid news Esme. I couldn't be more proud." My mother added with a beaming smile.

"But I hardly know him. He doesn't know me either. This cannot be." I replied incredulously.

"It must be Esme," my father said, his tone stern, "I would like to know you are taken care of. Nobody lives forever and I won't always be with you. Charles is a good man and the best you can hope for seeing as you've left it so long."

My hand flew to my heart as if he had stabbed me. Each breath I drew felt more like water than air. The day had come when I could no longer live on dreams and stolen handkerchiefs. I owed my parents my loving obedience. I needed to reassure them that I would be safe and loved when they were gone.

"You are right Father. I will do it," I said, my voice sounded hollow to my ears, "I will marry Charles Evenson."

AN: And here we go again. I usually don't write this fast but I must be on some sort of caffeine induced writing spree. I know the whole "let's get married" business is a little sudden but Esme is pretty much being forced into an arrangement that was already done behind her back. I'm so glad my parents don't suck that bad. Any who, I hoped you liked it and continue reading. See ya next time and don't change that channel!


	5. Chapter 5: I Suppose I Do

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own the Twilight series or its characters; they belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 5: I Suppose I Do**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1917**_

March 7, 1917 would begin the first day of my new life, my married life, with Charles Evenson. It wasn't going to be the fairytale I had imagined when I was sixteen but over the past two months I had begun to hope that it wouldn't be a nightmare. Charles and I never got much time to be alone and really get to know each other but from what I had seen in the company of others he was a decent man. Many women survived with much less and I knew I should be grateful.

My mother helped me get ready by brushing and twisting my long caramel colored into an elegant love knot that rested at the base of my neck. She spoke softly to me while she worked.

"Today is one of the most important days of your life Esme. Today you become a wife. From now until the day your heart stops beating you will give all your love and respect to Charles as he will return it to you. Take nothing for granted because God only gives us one lifetime."

I took my mother's wise words into my heart as she helped me into my simple white wedding dress and placed the beautiful lace veil on my head. I took a deep breath as I turned to face the mirror and held it as I looked at my image.

I was young and still beautiful despite being a dreaded 22 years of age. My face was naturally pale but today I looked like I had no color, like I was a corpse on my way to a funeral rather than a wedding. _None of that nonsense_ I thought to myself as I pinched my cheeks hard to bring a rosy hue to my face.

"Let us not keep Charles waiting." I said demurely to my mother whose smile far outshone my own.

"That's the way of it. Well done Esme." My mother replied, tears in her lovely eyes.

I felt tears of my own beginning to form as my father came into the room looking rather dapper in his suit.

"They need you to go sit downstairs Margaret," he said to my mother before turning to me, "Don't cry beautiful Esme."

_"Don't cry beautiful Esme."_

My father had repeated the angel's words, twisting my stomach into further knots. I had almost been able to let go of that beautiful man, Carlisle, just for this one day; I had even left his handkerchief in my bedside drawer. But I couldn't after those words; I needed his strength today if I was to marry Charles, my polite stranger.

"Hold on father," I requested as I put Carlisle's gift close to my heart, "I just need one more moment."

One deep breath later I was walking down the hallway towards my backyard where I would marry Charles under the old oak tree. My small wedding at home was the 'indulgence' that Charles had granted me. I didn't want many witnesses; I just wanted to make everyone happy as quickly and as privately as possible.

My scattered thoughts got me all the way down the aisle, through Charles piece, to the part where I needed to speak.

"Repeat after me" the priest beckoned to me, "I, Esme Anne Platt."

"I, Esme Anne Platt" I called back, feeling like a school child.

"Do take thee, Charles Wilbur Evenson."

"Do take thee Car—Charles Wilbur Evenson."

Damn. I had nearly said Carlisle's name. I looked around nervously from the corners of my eyes to see if anyone had noticed; nobody seemed to care.

"To be my lawfully wedded husband for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live."

"To be my lawfully wedded husband for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for as long as my heart beats." I stated calmly, changing the end as I smiled at my mother.

After that we exchanged rings and I was beginning to feel better about everything. The day was turning out beautifully and the sun was shining as the priest pronounced us husband and wife. With the exception my one slip up I had managed to get through everything without too much heartache. Right then and there I vowed to bury my sixteen year self in the furthest regions of my heart. Charles deserved an even chance and I couldn't pine forever. I would never forget Carlisle, my beautiful angel, but I would let Charles be separate from him. I beamed up at Charles with my first purely genuine smile of the day and resolved to be happy with the one lifetime I had.

AN: So hello again. Hoped you liked the chapter. Again let me know if I fail at life when it comes to portraying these characters. As long as you can see how they get from my story to Twilight I will feel very pleased with myself.

"Fare thee well. I shall see thee upon my return." –Robin Hood Men In Tights.


	6. Chapter 6: Perhaps I Was Wrong

**Disclaimer: **I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters; they belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 6: Perhaps I Was Wrong**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1917**_

March 14, 1917 was the day my real new life began. I had spent the day in my new kitchen cleaning, cooking, and thinking on the strangeness of my new life with Charles. We had been on a honeymoon of sorts, although we hadn't left town. Instead we had settled into our new home and Charles had taken a week off work to be with me. Spending time with him and getting to know him better had been my goal of the week; however, he was less than interested in getting to know my mind.

As to what had transpired in our marriage bed I was unsure of how to feel about the whole process. The first time had been awkward and painful and while each subsequent time I preformed my 'wifely duties,' as I had dubbed them in my head, I still felt nothing akin to excitement or pleasure. If my married friends had not described the joys of the married state I might have believed that only men took pleasure in sex as a punishment for the sins of Eve.

I pushed the subject from my mind not wanting to focus on my dissatisfactory experiences; I was really trying to give Charles his even chance. I whistled happily as I pulled the cornbread out of the oven to cool and stirred the hearty stew I had let simmer all day. Charles would need a good filling meal when he got home from work. I was so distracted by my work that I didn't notice the front door opening.

"Esme!" Charles voice rang out harsh against my happy little tune, "Where the devil are you woman!"

I immediately ceased whistling, afraid to breathe too loudly lest I irritate him.

"I'm in the kitchen," I squeaked out when I finally found the courage to speak, "Bad day at work?"

"No, it was lovely as the spring blossoms," he spat back sarcastically, "Of course it was awful woman and it's your fault I'm so miserably behind!"

Usually I would have held my tongue but I knew I had done nothing to deserve his harsh words and after my hard work in the kitchen I was unwilling to accept the blame.

"I did not make you take a week off Charles. You made that decision for us both."

_Oh Holy God,_ I thought to myself, _I should not have said anything_.

The storm that was building in his face made me feel that if he could get away with strangling me he might have done it.

"How dare you speak to me like that you insolent little witch?! I am the head of this house and you will submit to my wishes or suffer the consequences!" his face was inches from mine as he spat the ruthless words from his mouth like spears meant to skewer me to the wall I had unconsciously backed up against.

"Yes Charles" I spoke in a volume barely above a whisper.

"Louder" he screamed before bringing the back of his hand across my face with enough force that I tasted blood on the inside of my mouth.

"Yes Charles." I repeated louder before swallowing the blood that had begun to pool on the side of my mouth he had struck.

"Good," he said roughly as he backed off, "And dinner had better be on the table in ten minutes. I am a hungry man and I do not like to be kept waiting."

I nodded meekly as I moved more quickly about the kitchen; mechanically pulling the necessary dishes from the cupboards as a thought quickly about what had just happened to me. _Perhaps it was just a bad day and I provoked this by not being supportive enough_, I tried to rationalize in my head, _this is just one time and I should be a good wife, keep quiet and try harder_.

_Or perhaps he is just naturally mean tempered and this is just a first taste of worse to come_, the nasty part of my mind fired back. I shook my head to dispel the thought and set the table for dinner.

We managed to get through dinner without further incident or speech and I told him that as soon as I was done washing up I would like to make an early night of it.

"Well at least you have one bright idea tonight" Charles replied, every syllable dripping with lust.

"Very well," I countered, my tone more clipped than I meant for it to be, "I will be up presently. You don't have to wait down here for me to finish."

To my utter relief Charles proceeded upstairs without another word and I was able to let my tears flow freely as I drew out my mundane task of dishwashing. When no last second could be stretched out I proceeded up the stairs to my waiting husband and what I was assured would be a very long night.

I was sore the next day. He had been rather rougher with me than I had been expecting. Memories came flooding through my mind with no way of being able to stop them.

_His lips crushed mine as his hands gripped my hips so hard that it would surely leave a bruise._

_"Tell me I'm the best Esme." He choked out through his labored breathing, "Tell me I'm the very best you've ever had!"_

_"You are the best I've ever had Charles." I said roughly as I choked back tears of shame and pain._

_"I damn well better be you little trollop! I better be the only man you've ever had!" His voice got more harsh with each accusatory word, "Have you already been unfaithful you ungrateful little bitch?"_

_"No! You are the only one, I swear!" I cried out in sheer panic._

_"Sounds like lies you filthy slut. I'd best punish you to make sure." _

I winced at the memory. The names had been bad enough but the slaps and punches had been infinitely worse. But Charles was a smart man; he had injured me nowhere that would be visible to anyone in society. Only my husband would have the privilege of seeing his handiwork of bruises.

I wanted to believe it would just be the one time. I prayed that it would just be the once but his sheer rage and paranoia made me believe otherwise. And as the days turned to weeks and nothing changed I saw a picture of the life before me and it terrified me. Not one day was I safe from mental or physical abuse. Charles was my relentless demon, so different from my fleeting angel Carlisle. But I had one thing to be glad for, Carlisle was not here to see what I had become; a wife tormented and brutalized daily by the man who had promised to love and respect her. I was lucky that I had shoved the memory of Carlisle and myself far into my heart where Charles could not reach in and tear it to shreds. I had also hidden my one physical memento of my past, the doctor's handkerchief, and God spare me if Charles ever found it. Perhaps I had been wrong about Charles Evenson and now I had a lifetime to be punished for mistaking the character of a stranger.

AN: And from here on out the unhappy feelings get worse. Poor Esme. Anyway, reviews are always appreciated. Hopefully the muses are kind today and I can get another chapter out/ This first story feeling is super exciting. Back to the drawing board! Well, writing board. Whatever, you guys get what I mean. Happy reading!


	7. Chapter 7: Little Victories

**Disclaimer:** No way am I lucky enough to own the Twilight series or any of its characters. They all belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 7: Little Victories**

_**Columbus Ohio, 1917**_

One month, three weeks, and four days had passed since my wedding day. One month, three weeks, and four days of marriage to Charles Evenson had changed me into a woman I barely recognized. Each morning I would wake to a body that ached with old bruises and new blows. My face, which had once been filled with light and laughter, was drawn tight into a mask to hide the sadness of a dutiful wife.

No effort I made was ever good enough. The food I cooked was hardly ever to his liking, which meant a beating that I was soon used to. Even worse was when he was satisfied with my performance in cleaning _his_ house or cooking _his_ food; I had realized early on that nothing was my own anymore. Whenever my "pitiful attempts," as he called them, were worthy of his praise I knew to be prepared for a night filled with absolutely shaming experiences.

But I was utterly trapped by this clever man I was forced to call 'husband' because he knew better than to disrespect me in any public place. The one time I had tried to bait him into a public fight had been both a mistake and a victory.

_The dinner party we had been invited to was at the house of one of Charles business associates. I had been told, by Charles, to behave and keep my mouth shut; something in his condescending tone had incensed me to the point of rage. Did I ever complain or cry out during my many underserved beatings? Did I ever speak of my husband's horrible and violent temper? Of course I didn't. The least he could do was depend on me to suffer in silence without insulting my dignity even further._

_"Get down here woman! I do not want to be late!" Charles bellowed from the foot of the stairs._

_I took one last look at the woman in the mirror and smoothed my skirt with my hands before taking to the stairs. I spoke calmly to Charles as I descended, pitying this overgrown man-child and his inability to contain his temper._

_"No need for worry Charles, we will be on time."_

_His coarse response was something I expected, "I want to be early you stupid frivolous woman. This is __**important**__. Do you understand what that word means Esme?"_

_"Or course I do Charles," I replied exasperated, my tone laced with disrespect, "Let's go before I waste any more of your time."_

_Whether he decided to ignore my disrespect or merely didn't recognize my tone in his rush to get out of the house, it did not matter as he bustled me out to the car. Neither of us spoke on the way to the dinner party. I could tell that Charles was trying to cool down into his public persona of the town charmer and I was not particularly interested in drawing his attention while we were still alone._

_But perhaps I could draw his annoyance out in public! The idea hit me with a staggering force as ideas began running through my head. Could I irritate him with constant chatter? No, he wouldn't care. I would be expected to speak and be charming with everyone. But what if I was totally silent? Perfect. He had told me to 'keep my mouth shut,' hadn't he? After all if he was going to treat me like a child in need of a beating I should at least deserve it. _

_The minute I had resolved to impolite silence I felt instantly better than I had in days. While my actions would be unkind to the other dinner guests, something I did regret, it would be best in the long view. They needed to know what he was truly like. They needed to see his volatile nature for themselves and Charles needed help. He needed to be exposed almost as much as I needed this._

_I was impatient to get to the party so I could begin my plan and thankfully the drive was short. I stood dutifully behind Charles, my eyes downcast, as he knocked on the door of a house that looked to be twice the size of ours, which was sizable. Unable to hold back my glee, I grinned. This was the perfect time and place to test Charles' well built façade. _

_"Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Evenson," The woman who answered the door spoke warmly, "Please come inside."_

_"Thank you Mrs. Tyler." Charles responded, his polite tone ringing false in my ears._

_"Let me take your coats," Mrs. Tyler continued, "I will just put them away for you and please feel free to join the other guests."_

_My husband ducked his head in his impersonation of a gentleman and thanked the lady before steering me into the next room. It was the time just before dinner and the many guests were mingling and chatting casually as they waited to be called into the dining room._

_"Remember Esme. Try not to make a fool of yourself." Charles hissed in my ear as he strode over to our host in hopes of striking up a conversation._

_"Hello there Charles," Mr. Tyler said jubilantly, his demeanor open and friendly, "How's things old chap, eh?"_

_"Splendid, absolutely top notch." Charles responded in such a way as if he were looking for approval. This was clearly the time to act._

_"And this must be your pretty little lady!" Mr. Tyler said with a quiver of delight in his voice, "Would you be so kind as to introduce me Charlie?"_

_Charles grit his teeth at the use of a nickname, something he told me he hated. This was going better than I expected if he was already irritated._

_"Esme, this is my business associate Mr. Tyler," Charles began, the veins in his neck beginning to protrude, "Mr. Tyler, may I present my wife, Mrs. Esme Evenson."_

_"Oh Charlie don't be such a stick in the mud! Ms. Esme please call me Peter. Is it alright if I call you Ms. Esme?" Mr. Tyler requested affably; I almost hated to be rude to him._

_My silence made the moment awkward and Charles was getting more visibly upset with each second. _

_"Esme," Charles began, anger clear in his voice, "Answer the question."_

_Unable to hold out any longer, I spoke the words that would irritate my husband most._

_"But I thought you bid me to be silent. I didn't wish to make a fool of myself," my voice even and polite as I repeated Charles instructions back to him, "But now that I have permission to speak I would like to say that it is lovely to make your acquaintance Peter and it would be charming if you called me Esme."_

_I flashed a brilliant smile in Peter's rather stunned direction before my husband's anger broke._

_You'll have to excuse my wife, Mr. Tyler," Charles said venomously, "She must be __**unwell**__."_

_I turned to Charles with an innocent expression on my face as I spoke again, "I feel just fine Charles. I cannot imagine what you are talking about. Perhaps you feel a little ill?"_

_For a glorious moment I thought he would hit me in front of all these witnesses but the second passed. Before I knew it I was being roughly towed outside and then practically thrown into the car. I had succeeded at least in making a fool out him and that was enough for me._

_He said nothing until we were 'safely' inside the confines of our own home._

_"How in the hell could you do that to me you rotten little bitch!"_

_"I was only doing as I was told Charles." I replied, the edge to my voice was unmistakable._

_No coherent words would come from his mouth for the rest of the night as he beat me nearly insensible. But it was worth it just to see him fal—_

I was pulled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. Startled, I moved to answer it in as much haste as possible.

"Mrs. Evenson?" asked the young man who worked at the post office in town.

"Yes?" I replied questioningly, "What can I do for you today?"

"I just have a letter here for Mr. Evenson and I was supposed to deliver it into somebody's hands. Mr. Jones sent me down here 'specially." The young boy rattled back.

"Well then I shall take that so you can say it was delivered." I replied as I took a nickel from my pocket, "And you may have this nickel as my way of saying thank you."

"Thank you Mrs. Evenson!" The boy exclaimed thankfully as he took his prize and sped off down the lane towards town.

I chuckled as I shut the door; glad to find a moment of kindness in my shattered little world. Unthinking, I opened the letter even though it was clearly not addressed to me. I would be punished for it later but I would have been punished anyway so it made little difference. My eyes scanned the letter quickly and then I froze. I read the contents again, trying to see if I had misunderstood. I hadn't. I was there in black and white. My husband had been drafted to serve in the war. And for the first time in one month, three weeks and four days I felt free.

AN: Well that's one more chapter down and God knows how many to go. I'm just sort of writing this on the fly so the muses will dictate my pace and length. I would like to thank all those reading and especially **bellaplusedward620** for reviewing. The more you guys let me know what you think the better this will become. So if it's all trash then, with help, I can hopefully move up to decent and if it's good so far I can hopefully move up to great! See you all next chapter (which should be a bit lighter because I can only handle so much depressing stuff before I crack).


	8. Chapter 8: Sweet Liberty

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters. They belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 8: Sweet Liberty**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1917**_

Charles was so shocked about being drafted that he hardly had time, energy, or thought for me and what I was doing. My happiness was threatening to burst like a bubble inside of me and only fear that it would break this wonderful spell kept my joy contained.

By all accounts I knew it was probably wrong and unkind of me to feel the way I did but a big part of me simply couldn't care. My prayers had somehow been answered by the brutal war that raged so far from me. I was being to feel like this was a reward for my long, patient, and silent suffering. Only God himself could know but I wasn't about to argue with the situation.

Charles last bit of spite and meanness had come right as he was about to leave.

"If you mess around while I'm gone. Esme, I swear I will cut you to ribbons you little slut!" Charles practically spat in my face.

"Goodbye Charles." I replied in my most even tone, trying to pull together what little dignity he hadn't taken from me.

And then, as if by magic, Charles was gone. It was as if I had just woken up from the darkest of nightmares. Ever breath I took came easier; no longer feeling like a stone was crushing my chest. Everything around me seemed lighter and more beautiful; the sun shone brighter and for the first time in two months I was truly happy.

The first place I went was the old oak tree in my parents' backyard. Their house was not far from mine and I enjoyed my walk there; waving at the neighbors who probably thought I was crazy for being so cheerful about my husband going off to war. I ran when their house came into view and slipped effortlessly inside the back gate. My hands trembled as I reached into the knot in my favorite tree and pulled out the most precious object I owned.

Carlisle's worn handkerchief had survived well in this brilliant hiding place. Charles had not liked visiting my parents after our marriage; I guessed it was because he was afraid I would tell my mother and father what went on in my marriage. Little did he know that I would never have said a word but it gave me a place where I could hide my deepest secret. I pulled the cloth to my face, feeling its softness and inhaling deeply as I remembered perfectly Carlisle's heavenly scent. My marriage hadn't ended my connection with my phantom doctor and in that moment I felt sorry for my monster of a husband because I knew that this would have happened eventually. I knew I could never be emotionally loyal to Charles because Carlisle would always be in my heart, giving each beat meaning.

I knew I couldn't stay; I would be noticed if I did and I did not want to disturb my parents. I tucked Carlisle's handkerchief in the pocket over my heart and strolled away down the street, not really caring where my feet took me. After awhile of walking I had somehow ended up back in the house that no longer held the same air of gloom it had before.

"This place needs something," I mused aloud, "But what is it exactly?"

And then it came to me. This house needed joy and color and fun. I immediately pulled a sheet of paper off of Charles' desk, grabbed a pen, and began writing out a list of things I would need.

"Flowers, most definitely flowers, and lighter curtains, perhaps paint?" I thought aloud again, making plans with zeal.

I would no longer be trapped by Charles and what he thought was right. I was again the girl of my youth who climbed trees and lived fearlessly. I was free.

AN: Sorry this chapter is so short and sorry it took so long in coming! My internet has been down for days but it is now back! I would like to thank all my readers and especially my reviewers **jiraiyatsunade4ever**, **bluewaffles621**, and **edwardplusbella620**! You guys keep me going and I'm glad you like the story! Next chapter should be longer and it will get exciting because with each chapter I write I get closer to more Carlisle! Oh how I miss writing him :sigh: Anyway, see you guys soon!


	9. Chapter 9: Give Me Strength

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters. They belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 9: Give Me Strength**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1919**_

I had kept up with the news. It was the only way to know if Charles was alive or not since he never wrote to me. Each day I checked the lists of the dead or missing and never found his name. My friends, who had understood my abandonment of them during the first two months of my marriage, thought I was acting like any normal wife whose husband was off to war. What they didn't know is that I also scanned for the name of my angel, Carlisle Cullen, and thanked God everyday I didn't find it. I did not want Charles dead, that was too harsh, but I knew I couldn't live with Carlisle gone from this world.

In the two years that Charles had been absent I had changed my life around. I was no longer afraid and no longer felt raw and exposed. Charles' beatings faded over time to resemble something like a faint childhood nightmare.

Not only had my mental outlook changed, but also my physical surroundings. I had given color to the walls that made everything look more airy and open. The gardens, which had been bare, held a wild assortment of flowers. I had also restored some of the older furniture in the attic and began to use it in place of the newer things Charles had used. Something about the past appealed to me, as if I could recapture my youth in the works of my hands.

I was busy rearranging some fresh flowers into a vase when I heard a knock on the door.

"Come in Martha!" I shouted to the friend I had been expecting.

"Well Ms Esme, what is the occasion?" Martha said jokingly as she eyed my work with the flowers, "Is it possible that you are a wee bit excited?"

"Excited about what you silly fool?" I replied in the same light tone.

"I don't know," Martha countered, playing stupid, "I thought a loyal wife like you would have checked the paper today."

"I haven't had the time," I responded, my voice sliding a little bit into panic as I tried to figure out what she meant, she knew nothing of my marital troubles, "What is in today's paper?"

"I'm shocked that you haven't read it," Martha continued, her tone still irritatingly light, "But I expect you'll be excited to hear that Charles should be home any day now."

The vase fell from hands to shatter on the floor, glass flying in all directions. I barely noticed it as I answered my friend, my voice trembling, "Charles, back?" I gasped, "But how? The war is still unresolved!"

"No," Martha said, her voice wary now, "They've signed the peace treaty. Our soldiers are coming home."

"Oh God Martha! Oh God." I replied before falling into a stunned silence.

I had barely survived two months and now I was expected to survive a lifetime with no relief in sight. My world became bleak and black again with no visible ray of hope. I prayed that Martha simply took it as shock.

"There, there dear," Martha said comfortingly as she sat me down in the nearest chair and began picking up the glass fragments, "Everything will be wonderful! I suppose you just weren't expecting a miracle this soon."

I smoothed out the horrified look on my face as I chose my next words, "Of course. Just a bit of a shock, it is so soon and I just was not expecting it."

"I'll just have this cleaned up in no time," Martha prattled on, "And then I suppose I will leave you for a bit. You look like you might need to lie down. A little nap is the best thing after a good shock I always say."

"Thank you." I replied absently as I drifted upstairs to my room. I needed time to grieve for the loss of my freedom.

A month passed by. Then another. Then another. Months flicked by like days as I waited for my blessed life of solitude to end. By mid-December I had begun to hope that Charles had found other distractions that held more sway than terrorizing me.

When I had heard that the peace treaty had been signed in June I had hidden my precious handkerchief away again. I was afraid that Charles would surprise me and then punish me for having another man's initials laid over my heart. He would suspect I had taken a lover in his absence. But by the time Christmas Eve rolled around I felt safe in wearing Carlisle's gift again; I thought of it as my present to myself.

Snow began to cover the ground as I worked busily around the house; putting up decorations for myself and losing myself completely in thoughts of what Christmas with Carlisle would be like.

Suddenly a blast of cold air hit my back and turned to shut the door which I thought had blown open. How wrong I was.

There in the doorway stood Charles, my wayward husband. His face was gaunter, his body was slimmer, but his eyes held the same darkness that terrified me for the two longest months of my life. I froze, Carlisle's handkerchief exposed in my hand.

"What the hell are you doing Esme?" Charles whispered murderously, "What the hell have you done to this house? And what the hell is that in your hand?!"

My response was slow and full of fear, "I-I was decorating for Christmas. I changed a few things to cheer- I mean- keep me occupied while you were gone."

My eyes were glued to the floor as he stepped closer, slamming the door behind him. Somehow I felt colder even though the icy wind was gone.

"You did not answer all of my questions _wife_!" hurling his words like daggers.

"This is nothing but a simple handkerchief," I replied hastily, too hastily.

"Really?" He asked incredulously as he snapped in from my hand and inspected it, "Then why does it have another man's initials on it you cheating wench!"

My mind turned over answers quicker than I thought possible until I came to the only one that would save me. It also happened to be the blackest of blasphemies.

"The initials are yours and mine together," my voice shaking as I spoke, "It was supposed to be a 'C' and an 'E' but my embroidery skills are lacking. I made it to remember you by everyday. That's why it's so worn."

My lie hurt my soul but it probably saved my life. I wondered if it had been worth it.

"I'll show you the only thing I missed," he replied crudely as he tossed the cloth to the floor and grabbed my hand to drag me upstairs.

And so it all began again. The torture, the pain, the shame now fresh and wounding me to my core as it had before. When he eventually fell asleep, I snuck downstairs a hid the handkerchief under a loose floorboard in the kitchen, not being able to bear hiding it farther away. I would need every bit of strength my angel could give me if I was going to be able to endure.

AN: I would like to thank all who have reviewed and all who have added me to story or author alert. It makes me feel great to know I have readers. I'm sorry my posting pace has slowed but I'm back at school so chapters won't be coming as fast as they did at first. I like this chapter a lot better than the last one and I hope you all liked it too! See you guys next chapter and remember to keep reading and reviewing. And not too many chapters to go before we see Carlisle again! I'm so excited!!

PS. Can anyone spot the Doctor Who reference? And just to say I don't own Doctor Who either.


	10. Chapter 10: Knife's Edge

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Twilight Series or any of its characters. They all belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 10: Knife's Edge**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1919-1920**_

That Christmas was the worst of my life but that New Year was the best. Charles had left for that evening to drink with his friends and had passed out in the cab of his truck just outside the local bar. It was humiliating for him as people began to whisper if the war had changed the 'kind and gentle' Charles Evenson. He was beginning to expose himself for what he really was; his mask unpracticed for so long had slipped.

But that was the last of good days and the start of my own personal hell all over again. He blamed me for everything, saying I had spoken ill of him while he was off at war. The names he called me stung and worthless became his new favorite word to describe me.

Through all of it I never cried. I didn't feel as if I could cry anymore and this only served to make Charles angrier. I suspected he enjoyed my tears, to see my pain, so when I denied him that he used it as an excuse to get worse.

I began to lose track of time as days began to feel like weeks and weeks began to feel like years. I was the oldest of souls before I realized that it had only been 3 months since Charles' return. I felt as if God and all his angels had forsaken me, to live what seemed an eternity with the blackest of hell's demons.

The abuse was constant; my friends had all left me to my monster husband thinking, mistakenly, that I had missed him during the war. I had nowhere to turn and on top of everything I was beginning to feel very ill, a fact I couldn't share with Charles for fear he'd simply try to beat it out of me.

By mid-April I was getting sick everyday and I knew I would need to visit a doctor. I waited until Charles left for work before I walked over to Martha's house. I had arranged to meet her a couple days ago for tea but I would now use it as my opportunity to go to a doctor without Charles being there. Martha was out on her porch when I arrived.

"Why hello there Ms. Esme! Long time no see, but no doubt you've been enjoying yourself!" Martha called as I approached.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a favor," I started as we shared a hug, "I've not been feeling very well lately and I was wondering if we could visit the doctor and take our tea this afternoon."

"I am so sorry you haven't felt well! Of course we can stop in with the doctor you silly goose!" Martha replied as though it was obvious that she would help, "Just let me pull the car around and we'll be there before you know it. Why didn't you have Charles take you?"

"I don't know what is wrong with me and I don't want to worry him," I lied quickly, "And he's been so upset ever since he came back. He just isn't the same Charles I married."

_At least that's true,_ I thought to myself, _he's even worse this time around_.

Martha's face became concerned immediately. Clearly she had heard the rumors going around as well.

"You let me know if you need anything, Esme," Martha commanded clearly as she helped me into her car, "Promise me you'll ask."

"I promise." I replied, my voice weak with relief that I had someone to turn to if it got much worse.

The drive wasn't too long and we sat in comfortable silence. I suspected Martha had questions that she wasn't sure she should ask. Either that or she wouldn't really want to know the answers for certain. There is a difference between suspecting and knowing. Martha suspected my husband was a monster but she did not want to know yet.

"Esme?" Martha questioned when the car stopped.

"Let's get this done." I responded in the strongest voice I could muster.

The doctor's office smelled strongly of alcohol and ether, mixing to create a burning in my nose and throat. The last doctor I had seen was Carlisle and he had smelled impossibly sweet, not like this cramped waiting room. It wasn't long before the doctor called me in.

"Mrs. Evenson?"

I got up silently, trying to be calm as I followed the doctor into an examination room. I shivered in the cold as he did his exam, asking yes and no questions that I either nodded or shook my head to.

"When was your last cycle Mrs. Evenson?" The doctor queried kindly, a smile on his face.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach as I realized what he was trying to get around to.

"I'm pregnant!" I gasped.

"Yes, Mrs. Evenson," the doctor replied, beaming, "Your husband will be a proud father in several months time."

I blanched white at the mention of my husband.

"Are you feeling dizzy Mrs. Evenson?" the doctor asked, his expression worried.

I shook my head no, thanked him quietly, and then practically ran to go get Martha so we could leave. I knew that now was the time to tell someone the truth whether they were ready or not. This child, my child, could not grow up in the hell in which I existed. I needed a way out to protect myself and my unborn child. This child was my saving grace and I would do anything to defend the little soul growing inside of me.

AN: So I am aware that I am an epic failure. It has taken me far too long to post this chapter but I was having school issues and weather issues that led to its delay. I want to thank all my patient readers and reviewers. You guys are awesome and you keep me inspired. Carlisle is coming soon and Charles is soon to exit so get ready for Esme to be exceptionally cool. Anyways, I apologize again for the ridiculous delay!! Enjoy!!


	11. Chapter 11: Runaway

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own the Twilight series or any of its characters. They all belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 11: Runaway**

_**Columbus, Ohio 1920**_

As we left the doctor's office I knew Martha was expecting me to say something but I also knew it had to wait until we were truly alone. Once I started I wouldn't be able to stop. The car ride was silent and strained, tension thick in the air. I could see Martha making sideways glances at me, willing me to speak, but I was unmoved. I needed this vital time to sort through the plans racing through my brain at a frightening speed.

The minute we got inside her house Martha could tolerate my silence no longer.

"What is the devil is wrong Esme? You have the look of ghost. Is it terrible news? Are you very ill?"

"Not ill," I replied, my voice shaking, "I am pregnant."

"This is such wonderful news Esme!" Martha responded immediately, shocked by my lack of enthusiasm and pale face.

"No." I stated firmly, perhaps more vehemently than I meant to, "I am- I am terrified."

"How could this be bad? You're scaring me Esme, I have never seen you so pale." Martha said softly, concern and fear evident in her tone.

"I will tell you," I spoke as evenly as I could, "But I need you to listen to it all before you speak. If I stop I don't know if I will be able to continue."

My friend nodded solemnly and I began to weave my tale; the nightmare of my life which began with an arranged marriage that degenerated into a hell of beatings, rape, and cruelty. Martha sat in stunned silence as I told her of the real Charles Evenson, a monster hiding behind a façade of a polite businessman. She wept as I spilled out every wound my husband had inflicted on me. It wasn't until later that I would realize tears had streamed down my own face as I spoke of unimaginable horrors.

As my tale came to an end I looked into Martha's face and saw a rage that took me aback. Never had I seen my gentle happy friend look so murderous.

"That bastard will pay for what he's done to you Esme. John and I will protect you." Martha spat venomously.

"No Martha," I said quietly, "I am his wife. I can do nothing against his power. Nobody would believe me and even if they did he would kill me and my unborn child before anyone could help me. I only have one choice. I must save the innocent soul of my child. I have made my mistakes and paid for them but this child is blameless. I have to run."

"If he is what you say then he will hunt you to the ends of the Earth Esme." Martha warned.

"Then I will just have to hope that I can run a little faster than he can," I replied, calm and decided, "I have an idea of where I am going. I cannot tell you or anyone where I will be but rest assured I will be safe. I hate to burden you with any more knowledge; Charles will be furious as it is. You've been the best of friends Martha, a better companion I could not find again. I only need to ask you one more favor."

"Anything." Martha replied firmly.

"Will you help me gather my things and drive me to the train station? The hours I have left are few before Charles comes home and I cannot risk another night in his house." I asked.

Martha nodded and we both walked silently to the car. The drive was short and we were at Charles' house within minutes. It was his house, not my home, never my home. Martha bolted up to my room and began packing my things at a frantic pace. The first place I went was to the kitchen. I ripped up the loose floorboard with more force than I meant to, leaving it permanently damaged. I picked up my one treasured possession, Carlisle's handkerchief, and then rushed upstairs to help Martha. We had all my belongings packed in a sadly short amount of time.

The drive to the train station was longer and when we finally got there I moved to get out of the car but Martha stopped me.

"Please take this Esme." Martha said as she handed me a plain white envelope.

I looked inside and saw a thick wad of cash. The amount in the envelope was staggering.

"I can not take this!" I replied, shocked by her generosity, "I am sure it will beggar you to give me this much!"

"It's not so much," Martha said as she pushed the money closer to me, "Besides, John's family and mine are both well off. This money will hardly be missed and you need it far more than I do."

"Thank you." I answered through a flood of tears.

After one last hug for my friend I turned to the station and strode boldly to the ticket counter and purchased my way to freedom.

I would spend two glorious months in Milwaukee with my cousin Sara Beth. She and her husband had been surprised when I had shown up unexpectedly on their doorstep, but they took me in without complaint and made me part of their family. I envied there easy and loving relationship and the enjoyment they had in spending time with their two daughters, Jane and Emma. But as time went on I began to feel less envious and more enraptured by the idea of being a mother. All I wanted out of my life was to live peacefully and be a good mother to the child that was growing in my womb.

Fate, it seems, had other plans for me. My cousin, feeling sorry for my frantic parents, had secretly written to my mother. The letter I received from my mother shortly afterward had frightened me. My mother was a good woman but she didn't understand what had happened. She pleaded with me to return and told me in her letter of Charles' tender concern. He knew. I ran.

I knew that I would only be safe if I was surrounded by strangers. I left my cousin's house and moved to a small house just outside of Ashland. I applied for my dream job and became a school teacher in that small little town. I told everyone I was a widow and nobody questioned me. I was Esme Anne Platt again and my world was blissful.

I was teaching a lesson to my students on one particularly cold January morning when my entire world shifted around. I began to go into labor.

"Miss Platt?" one of my students asked hesitantly when I stopped mid sentence and clutched my swollen belly.

"Run along and fetch the nurse Thomas." I gasped to the questioning student, "I believe the baby is coming today."

Everything was a rush of pain and noise when I reached the hospital. Fever swirled around me and clouded my senses. After several hours of delirium and pain, my son was born into the world.

My little boy, Henry, was the most perfect child in my eyes. I was able to forget his father when I held him in my arms and the promise of my new life opened up fully in that one instant. I was a mother. I was as complete as I could ever hope to be. My life revolved around the new little boy in my arms. At last I didn't feel as if I was running away. I was running towards something out of a dream, my little Henry.

AN: Well here you are my lovely readers and reviewers, a chapter without Charles and one Chapter away from Carlisle! I'm so excited! I want to thank everyone who has read or reviewed my story. You guys are awesome and you keep this story alive. The next chapter might take some time because I really want to get it right. Carlisle deserves all the love and attention I can give him as I reintroduce him into the story. He has been gone so very long and I thank you all for your patience. See you next time and I hope you liked the chapter!!


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